Magic Moments

Horse riding was no cake walk for me. I feigned ignorance for months about the rule for Princesses to learn to tackle a beast like that. For weeks I would hide somewhere innocently when it was time for the lessons. The experts appointed for this task left their posts within weeks. Hah! I would make each one leave. It’s a war now, between my father - The King and me. One morning I spotted a rather young man near the stables. The maids were gossiping how handsome he was. Some whispered he was a year or two senior to me. Huh! He must have just graduated then. Father is appointing amateurs now, I see. Had I not been home-schooled, I would have known school life for myself. I chose the haystacks in the courtyard of the servants’ quarters to hide that day, much pleased with my choice. The sky was beautiful and so were the house-sparrows. Just as I admired my surroundings, a head popped in front of me from nowhere. “So here you are. You’re late for your classes. Let’s go...

..... Years of separation weighed down upon me. I had missed him, so much, and had almost convinced myself that I had forgotten him. I could only stare, teary-eyed. Seeing him in front of me within a tangible distance felt surreal. He had grown, and so had I. We had transformed to mature adults from carefree teenagers. Time had passed unhindered, and providence finally had us meet. But we had no words to speak. He was as surprised and emotionally moved as I was. ‘How have you been?’ Adiel asked breaking the loaded silence. That did it. All the welled up tears found their way down my cheeks. I couldn’t contain them, even though afraid to create a scene at the party. His face construed with concern and pain. He put his glass of wine on the nearby table and moved closed. I was too overwhelmed to start the long overdue conversation. ‘Silah...,’ he brought his hand near my face. I turned and ran towards the door, into the darkness, away from the intimidating lights. ‘Silah, wait, ...

She had wanted to curate everything. Every new dress, every flower in the garden, every scene on the terrace, every day-out together, and every new experience. She would click for some and then capture some more through words.  And he would happily let her have her way. While he believed in living in the moment than fidgeting with the camera and the notepad to capture it for posterity, she was quite the opposite. She relied less on her own memory. Memory was fickle. Intangible. Impermanent. Today as she gathered her treasures for another viewing, this Polaroid picture caught her attention. There was a caption- 'Husband and Daughter’. Forgetfulness had its advantages. It didn't make you wistful of the past. Had she looked at the picture this morning too, or the day before? She wasn't sure. A middle-aged man and a young girl walked in then. They stopped short at the albums strewn around her.  “Yeah, that's us,” the man spoke looking at the photo...

Google Images Arjun (Siddharth Malhotra) was asked by Tia(Alia Bhatt) what would be the one line that he would leave for the world- the line on his tombstone for people to read and remember him. ‘ Akhri baar likh raha hun, hosake toh kahani yaad rakhna’- ‘Here I am writing for the last time, if possible do remember my story,’ was Arjun’s reply. We wanted to create magic with his words, write novels, and fulfill this one true passion. Yesterday we had a project party after watching ‘Udta Punjab’ at Inox. While interacting with one of the team mates, with whom I had worked for a couple of months, I got to know about her passion. She painted, had so many beautiful canvases in her collection. I had no idea about it. She had held an art exhibition in Odisha with a friend and had also participated in international art exhibitions held in Hyderabad. So damn impressive! On being asked since when she pursued this passion of hers so seriously, she replied it was just a few years tha...

Dear Me, I am so proud of you. I’m glad to have you as company in my solitude. You are precious; you are special, because you are you. Spending time with you is such a delight. I am always in awe and wonder by your level of imagination and the path your thoughts take when your mind’s wandering. You are the director of your own movie. I love that fact. You do everything with passion. You read novels now-a-days getting completely involved in the story and allowing your thoughts to go astray. I wish you had done that last year too, and not indulged yourself is light superficial reading. I’m happy you are now the way you were, before chasing after illusions. The creator in you is my favorite. She paints sceneries and abstruse musings on a whim. She loves to just hold the brush and play with colors. She creates childlike crafts with complete dedication. She writes her best masterpieces, when overtly emotional or hurt. She still jots down her feelings in her diary as ...

“An ancient weapon from the Vedas and bible once hunted by the Nazis, powered by the sound of the universe, reborn with the help of Quantum Physics, going to be unleashed onto the world and Kashmir holds its secret.” I received the book from the author Suraj Prasad through The Write Tribe Book Review Program.  I had liked the cover page of the book, and the blurb on the back. The mentioned genre ‘Science fiction Espionage Thriller’ also piqued my interest. Being a Dan Brown, James Patterson and Ashwin Sanghi fan, the thriller genre is one of my favorite. And that coming from another debut Indian author, with an Indian backdrop to the story made me apply for reviewing the book. In a Brief: “Quantum Physics meets Bible and Vedas in background of Kashmir and cricket.” This is what the book can be described as in a single line. There is some kind of an impending war and political broil in between nations- India, Pakistan, and China, concerning Kashmir in the st...

‘The Guardian Angels’ by Rohit Gore is, as the book jacket has it, is the epic and tumultuous story of two star crossed lovers who weren't  just soul mates but were also each other’s protectors. Published under The Grapevine Publications, the book is priced at Rs.125. And what appeals at the very first sight and tempts the reader to peek in is the beautiful book cover, designed by Saurav Das. This is a very emotional story of two characters, Aditya Mehta and Radha Deodhar, their lives both together and apart from each other, starting from their first meeting in school, in the seventh grade, to the early thirties. It is a journey through their days, their years, their dreams and aspirations, their successes and big losses. From their preteen days their fates are entwined together, making them almost inseparable, and the numerous tragedies have drawn them nearer to each other. Their bond is their only solace, and their love is the only thing that they draw inspi...

She didn’t want to be herself. She didn’t like cowering from dominating and authoritative persons, or losing an argument with a respectable person too soon. Neither could she cope with the repeated failures in her attempts to confront her mother, nor could she win over all her friends. She daren’t talk about her dreams to her father for being laughed at the illogicality of it all. She didn’t ever speak of her precious wishes and ambitions to anyone, for it may be just trampled over by them. She wasn’t sure if anyone would care enough to tread on with a light feet. She needed assurances, confirmations, consolations, optimisms, and a boost to her self esteem on a daily basis. She wanted to be a different person. She wanted to be a child once again, or a baby who has no care in the world. Being an adult is difficult, it’s very tough. She yearned to relive life, being a new herself and starting over once again, when she wouldn’t have to think her step twice; wouldn’t have to...

I received the free ebook as a part of the Write Tribe's Book Review Program . The name was not that catchy but seeing the coverpage I was curious. It’s a compilation of three short stories by three different authors- C.Suresh, Radha Sawana, and Karthik L. I guessed the first story was about ‘Sirens’, second about ‘spells’ and third about ‘dangers’. But it is not so actually. I liked reading the book, and being a part of this review program. And hats off to the detailed researches done by the authors. In Greek mythology, sirens are creatures half woman half bird who lured sailors to destruction by the sweetness of their songs. The Amazon Link-  link Femme Fatale Following a femme fatale he met in the bar to a hotel room puts Vikram in danger. He is trapped in the web of a murder, kidnapping, and a probable terrorist attack. An IPS officer to be, yet his lack of proper judgement and suspicion of the situation, has him in difficult consequences. He is conf...

Spot the.... I look at our childhood photos and wonder how fast time has flown by. From a chubby and smiling baby she grew into a joyous kid hugging her doll. And now, has transformed to a young little lady, sipping her coffee with style. ....difference. Earlier, she would fit in my lap. I could piggy back her then. I would tell her stories of how we bought her from the fair, selecting from many cute babies, and put her to sleep. Now she has grown taller than me and mother, my dear sis. Hope we capture moments together, forever. God bless her. This is a 100 word drabble for Write Tribe's Saturday post.

Today’s the last day of The Write Tribe  Festival of Words, I’m taking part in. The last writing prompt is ‘Dreams’. Taking part in it has been a wholesome experience. Churning out new ideas for the different posts, struggling to make the creative juices flow, and reading the other blogs- it was quite a learning time. I hadn’t been this creative for months. I give my thanks to ‘Write Tribe’ and all the bloggers who took part. I have blogged about dreams earlier too. You can read it here: Follow Your Dreams . Dreams are very mysterious things. More like the soul, the actual identity of dreams is unknown. Where the consciousness goes and where the mind wanders when we are in sleep dreaming, is still a big question. Is it some corner of our brain or some other unexplored dimension outside our body? This continues to be an enigma. The very idea of our soul leaving the body while we are dreaming, and visiting unchartered lands, is quite fascinating though, even...

Every person we meet leaves a mark in our lives, however minute it may be. The people at our home are the family we are born into. Mother’s love and scolding, father’s pampering, sibling’s fights and reconciliations, and grandparent’s adoring shapes us up. Learning begins at home, builds our nature and character. But then, there’s a larger family that we sometimes choose for ourselves and sometimes not- our friends, hostel roommates, chance acquaintances and encounters in the larger circle of friends-of-friends. Some of them add spice to our lives; make memories with us and last lifelong. Some of them are the pretentious lot, add fun at times but mostly take advantage of us. Some of them are the real ‘friend in need is a friend in deed’. They support us, and give a shoulder to lean on when we are down and low, but for some reason drift apart. We hold unto them as much as we can, the real and rare gems in our lives, but circumstances distances them more and more. And all...

Like most people out there, I too nurture a dream to travel around the world. Well, it hasn’t to be in 80 days. J I want to go street shopping in China and South Korea (buying beautiful charms, trinkets, dream catchers, etc.); view cherry blossoms in Japan; click a selfie with Moais in Easter Islands; visit Buddhist monasteries outside India; ride in a gondola in Venice and every roller coaster in the world; admire the Hagia Sophia in Turkey and churches in Vatican; tour entire Europe and marvel in its beauty, history, culture, and antiquity. Yes, Zindegi Na Milegi Dobara, and Yeh Jawani Hei Diwani have enraptured my imagination. They have me yearning to know and understand every culture, custom and tradition first hand. But the starting point of this wish was quite early. It started with ‘ SOTC-Musafir Hoon Yaaron ’ series on Indian television with Deepti Bhatnakar. Be it Indian places of worship like the ‘ Char dham yatra ’, places of vacation like the hill stations...

My tryst with music began quite early, inside my mother’s womb. I danced to my mother’s heartbeats, as she would put it. That was a nine month introductory session to rhythm, beat, and music in its crude form.  I grew up to granny’s lullabies, and grandpa’s chanting of prayers. I lived three of my early schooling years with them in Bhubaneswar- kindergarten and grade one, as my father was posted in Daitari where there was no school nearby. I was introduced to ‘Jana Gana Mana’ and ‘Vande Mataram’ at school. Grandpa had a collection of cassettes and a cassette player. I remember wrapping one of the bed-sheets around me like a sari and dancing to the Hindi bollywood songs on the double bed. We would visit grandpa’s home in Nayagarh in holidays, a joint family, a heaven for me in those days. We were like nine kids of the same age group in a single household. It was fun; running about in the corridor, playing in the veranda, playing flying dish with Jimmy- a street dog w...

I love libraries. I love books. I love the very look of the cover, the feel of the pages, the font of the script, and the blurb in the binding. Sometimes I feel like laminating my favorite book covers and hanging them in some ‘Hall of Favorites’. That can form a series too- a new, beautiful cover for a new edition of the book. I want to learn about this artistic cover designing some day. I think more than reading a book, I like to be surrounded by books. The atmosphere they create is very peaceful. They are the most comforting of friends, without making one feel vulnerable or judged. Being in a library is a bliss. It’s like many worlds present at the same place; you just have to delve into them. I wish books came with real portals to their world, like an entrance to a parallel universe. It would be amazing to live a few days with the characters we so much love. Given a chance I would want to visit Jane Austen’s creations, Hogwarts, Narnia (have a ride on Aslan’s back) and m...

We are sentimental fellows, and are proud to be so. Food, apart from being a need for survival or a delicacy to satisfy or pamper our taste buds, is an emotional indulgence. We attach foods of different kinds to uncommon situations, and numerous memories. That is why it is said that certain flavors, certain tastes are potent enough to bring back the days past, brew a recipe of nostalgia, and refresh the old pages of life. Some dishes remind you of an old pal, and some, your native land. As the competitive world has made us too busy to stand and stare, or to make a call, we take the liberty of missing our near and dears while eating. Deny it as much as you will, but food is a part of our reminiscences and recollections- be it savoring a friend’s treat or trying a new cuisine. Cotton candy and lollipops define childhood, as ‘makke di roti’, ‘sarsoon da saag’, ‘idli aur dosa’, ‘pakhala au macha bhaja’ relate to home and a mother’s handmade finger-licking-worthy items. ...

Of arrivals and departures Of meetings and partings Of make-ups and breakups Of love and hate The deep ocean called mind Has it all. Of hellos and greetings Of laughs and cries Of tearful goodbyes Every poignant moment Is cherished with care. I think our memories make us who we are. Without them we wouldn't be able to identify with ourselves. Our past defines us; it creates our perception of the world. Memories play a part in giving leverage to our thought process, and the decisions that we make. On the other hand, realizing that we have forgotten a long cherished moment or a vital part of our lives is painful. We can't really realize that pain until we grow old and experience it. Being forgotten is painful too; realizing that we are no longer a part of the person’s memories. My memories are my treasure; my most prized possession. In earlier days I used to jot down events and experiences in my diaries, to keep a track of every to-be-re...